


i'm a fool out of love

by foxgloved



Category: Mortal Instruments Series - Cassandra Clare, Shadowhunter Chronicles - All Media Types, Shadowhunter Chronicles - Cassandra Clare
Genre: F/F, Pre-Femslash, Timeline What Timeline
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-26
Updated: 2016-02-26
Packaged: 2018-05-23 07:10:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 300
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6108979
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/foxgloved/pseuds/foxgloved
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>“Before you decide to murder me, let me explain…”</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	i'm a fool out of love

**Author's Note:**

> tw: brief mentions of death/murder. i need 2 put all the fics in this ship's tag whoops.... hand-wavey timeline idk, maybe sometime before/during cog but maia is... an alpha???? maybe??????? i dont know i havent written her before sooooo
> 
> title from lenka's 'the show' which is also a rly cute song n,,, im gay,,,,

“Before you decide to murder me, let me explain…”

“Explain,” Isabelle repeats. She glances to the seraph blade in her hand, casting an unearthly glow around the room, and sets it down gingerly on her bed. Maia rolls onto her side beneath her, already healing scrapes snaking across both cheeks, her hair curling out and leaving wet marks on Isabelle's carpet. “You look like someone's tried to murder you already. What happened?”

Maia presses her palm into the side of her neck, the _crack_ sound echoing around the room. Isabelle makes a noise somewhere in her throat, and Maia says, “Rogue werewolf tried to give me a run for my money. I took care of him, though.”

“Maia, what does 'took care of' mean.”

Maia flashes her the sliver of a grin, glimmering bright white. “You wouldn't want to know,” she says, dangerous and low, and Isabelle snorts. Maia's grin widens at that. “No, but really, can I stay here for a little while?”

Isabelle looks over her shoulder. The pitter-patter of Maryse and Robert's feet echo around the living room, though their voices have lowered — to less than a dull roar, anyways. She can't make out exact words, all cloaked in the exchanging of low whispers (that state that they don't yet know Alec's not home, and that there is a girl werewolf in Isabelle's room) and lifts her shoulders, lets them fall again.

“Sure,” she says, grudging and with her heart jumping _up up up_ to her throat. (She doesn't think it's supposed to be there, but it leaps every time Maia looks at her beneath her eyelashes like that. Screw that, every time Maia _looks_ at her.) “Whatever you want.” It's a promise, even if Isabelle doesn't make promises.

Maia's smile says that she already knows that.

**Author's Note:**

> [u kno the drill](http://npdsolo.tumblr.com/)


End file.
